


A Last Favor

by BuffyRowan



Category: McHale's Navy (TV), RED (2010)
Genre: M/M, crossover because it needed to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyRowan/pseuds/BuffyRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry asks Cooper for a favor</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Last Favor

**Author's Note:**

> a little tribute to Ernest Borgnine, may he rest in peace.

Cooper checked his tools one more time, making sure that the special bit was in the cordless drill, and that everything could be pushed more or less out of sight quickly. He was just thankful that this cemetery's groundskeeper never made night rounds. "Only person he could trust my ass. I'm just the only one stupid enough to do this," he muttered quietly. 

***

Cooper made it a habit to visit the Records Keeper after the RED debacle. The old man knew everybody, and all the secrets, and Cooper had made a good enough impression on the man that he'd been willing to share his knowledge a bit. This was the first time the old man had really looked his age, which Cooper guessed to be at least in the eighties. "You all right, Henry?"

Henry sat down with a sigh, "Just peachy. I tell you, this getting old stuff ain't for the faint of heart." He'd gotten serious, pulling open a bottom drawer and retrieving an envelope from the very back and bottom. "Listen, Kid, you're one tough cookie. I've seen your file, and Frank and his crew trust you, so I know you've got the skills for this. I need to ask you a favor, a big one, but I don't have anyone else I can trust with this these days."

Cooper was wary but flattered, "Sure, Henry, what is it?"

Henry grinned, "Just a little something I need you to do after I kick the bucket. Of course, if you do it, you should know my name isn't Henry."

***

"Just a little something, just a little bit of grave robbing, is all." Cooper carefully verified the plaque marking the drawer he wanted, lifting the drill to the bolts holding it shut. He'd have to be careful, so that there'd be no obvious marks when he put it back. Thankfully, there was no immediate family who might visit and notice anything strange. The man had been unmarried when he died, his parents and siblings had passed years ago, and the few nieces and nephews were scattered across the country. The tiny penlight he was using threw deep and strange shadows on the letters of the plaque, but he could still read the name.

Cooper looked up and muttered, "You better appreciate this, you wily old bastard. Wherever you are."

*** 

A week later Cooper was cursing both of the old man's names again. Pretend to be his son and claim his ashes? Piece of cake. Steal the ashes of the love of his life from where his family had buried him? Vaguely challenging, but more pain in the ass than anything. Get Frank and the gang to an abandoned Navy base in the Pacific to send him off in the manner the Records Keeper had requested? More challenging, but still pretty simple. Wear the god-awful tropical print swim trunks in public? It was a damn good thing he hadn't known that part when Henry had asked that favor, otherwise Cooper might have thought twice about agreeing. At least the buildings on this part of the base were still in good condition. Apparently Henry's friendship with the natives meant they'd taken to using "his" part of the island as a vacation site, so they'd kept the barracks and officer's quarters habitable. He finally steeled his nerve enough to join the others on the beach. Frank, Ivan, and Marvin were all wearing similarly patterned swim trunks, while Victoria pulled off a bright red bikini and Sarah was slightly less confident in an eye-searingly green bikini.

Cooper glared at Frank when the older man seemed like he was about to say something. They all moved to the end of the dock where Cooper had placed the two brass urns, one shining and new, the other slightly dull with age. Sarah broke the silence, "So, whose grave did you rob again?"

Cooper gritted his teeth and counted to ten in Gaidhlig. He was not going to react, because he did not need this to become a running gag to them. "Before Henry became who he was, he was Lieutenant Commander Quinton McHale of the US Navy. He served here on Taratupa during WWII. Quite a few personnel from this base were transfered to the Italian theater shortly after liberation. He was one of them, as was Lieutenant Elroy Carpenter. He and Carpenter carried on a secret love affair pretty much the entire time they were stationed together, and had talked about joint plans for after the war. Unfortunately, two weeks before they were due to be shipped home, there was a pneumonia outbreak where they were stationed. Quinton caught it, was out of his head for a while with fever. Carpenter caught it, but he couldn't fight it off, he'd just recovered from a recurrence of Malaria. By the time Quinton was aware again, Carpenter was gone. His body had already been shipped home to his family, and Quinton knew there was no way for him to fight them cremating him and putting his ashes in the family crypt."

Ivan slipped his arm around Victoria's waist, "I am glad we did not have to wait until we were both ashes to be reunited." She leaned against him, nodding slightly. Frank and Sarah were holding hands now, and Cooper could just see her spinning the tragic romance in that Harlequin-addled brain of hers. He turned to the (he never thought he'd say this) only other clear-headed member of their group.

"Marvin, you grab Henry--Quinton, I'll grab Carpenter. We pour them together, over the water, alright?"

Marvin nodded solemnly, and as simply as that, the remains of the two men were spread as one over the bright blue of the pacific waters. There was a moment of silence as they all remembered the man they had known and the love that he'd lost.

Cooper broke the moment with little regret. From what he'd learned about Quinton McHale, he wouldn't have wanted sad faces and somber reflection. "Come on, let's head down the beach to the luau. The sooner we eat ourselves sick on that roast pig the natives have been cooking and drink ourselves stupid on the moonshine, the faster we can get out of these hideous swimsuits."

Their laughter rang out over the ocean, echoing the joy Cooper had felt radiating from the letter Henry had given him detailing his final wishes, and the reasons behind them.


End file.
